ollaborateurs are compelled to
listen "on the chance of there being something in their schemes."

"I am asking myself, every now and then, whether I am a staff-officer or
one of the doctors at Charenton," said Prince Bibesca, one evening.

"Since yesterday morning," he went on, "I have been interviewed by a
dozen inventors, every one of whom wanted to see General Trochu or
General Schmitz, and would scarcely be persuaded that I would do as
well. The first one simply took the breath out of me. I had no energy
left to resist the others, or to bow them out politely; if they had
chosen to keep on talking for four and twenty hours, I should have been
compelled to listen. He was a little man, about the height of M. Thiers.
His opening speech was in proportion to his height; it consisted of one
line. 'Monsieur, I annihilate the Germans with one blow,' he said. I was
thrown off my guard in spite of myself, for etiquette demands that I
should keep serious in spite of myself; and I replied, 'Let me fill my
pipe before you do it.'

"Meanwhile, my visitor spread out a large roll of paper on the table. 'I
am not an inventor,' he said; 'I merely adapt the lessons of ancient
history to the present circumstances. I merely modify the trick of the
horse of Troy. Here is Paris with its ninety-six bastions, its forts,
etc. I draw three lines: along the first I send twenty-five thousand men
pretending to attack the northern positions of the enemy; along the
second line I send a similar number, apparently bent on a similar
attempt to the south; my fifty thousand troops are perfectly visible to
the Germans, for they commence their march an hour or so before dusk.
Meanwhile darkness sets in, and that is the moment I choose to despatch
a hundred and fifty thousand troops, screened and entirely concealed by
a movable wall of sheet iron, blackened by smoke. My inventive powers
have gone no further than this. My hundred and fifty thousand men behind
their wall penetrate unhindered as far as the Prussian lines, where a
hundred thousand fall on their backs, taking aim over the wall, while
fifty thousand keep moving it forward slowly. Twelve shots for every man
make twelve hundred thousand shots--more than sufficient to cause a
panic among the Germans, who do not know whence the firing proceeds,
because my wall is as dark as night itself. Supposing, however, that
those who have been left in the camp defend themselves, their
projectiles will glance